


Cut Above the Rest

by ZaeraDee



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hair Stylist AU, M/M, Modern AU, Phasma is the 'best' friend, Self Confidence Issues, soft!kylux, stylist!Hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 13:39:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13660143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaeraDee/pseuds/ZaeraDee
Summary: Kylo needs a haircut. Poe knows a guy. Kylo's not sure what he's getting into.





	Cut Above the Rest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosensilence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosensilence/gifts).



> Gift fic for rosensilence for the 2018 Valentine's Day Kyluxchange.
> 
> I had every intention of writing a totally different prompt. ^u^ Then this one happened.  
> If you want a soundtrack, I listened to the OST from the Live Action Sailor Moon. XD
> 
> Prompt 04: Hairdresser AU - Hux is the hairdresser, Ren his new client 
> 
> Thanks to Droneshard for the edits! 
> 
>  
> 
> Anyhow, I really hope you enjoy it! Happy Valentine's Day!!

Water drips off Kylo’s dark hair, trickling down his pale, frowning face. He swipes the wet strands from his eyes, dragging thick fingers through the heavy locks. Honey-brown eyes narrow as he tries to make sense of the uneven mess. His hair grows unnervingly quick, and he has yet to find a barber or stylist that is worth the price of frequent visits.

Usually, he just hacks at it himself – which has left him in his current, sorry state.

“I really need to get a proper cut,” he sighs, turning to pull on his clothes and stumble sleepily into his dim apartment kitchen. He starts a pot of coffee and grabs his charged phone from the chipped, vinyl counter top. He swipes over the cracked screen, searching for the link his co-worker sent him weeks ago. “Come on, Poe,” he mutters, losing himself in day after day of benign work messages. When the machine beeps, he tosses the phone aside in exchange for his mug of wake-up juice. As the caffeine starts to take hold, he stretches, and takes up the device again, leaning back against the counter. “What was it…”

He tries a few word combinations in google: local hair salon, local stylist, trendy cuts, rugged hipster recommendations. Eventually, something comes up that jogs his memory and he taps the link. “The Finalizer.”

That’s the one.

When Poe found out about Kylo’s attempts at cutting his own hair, he quickly recommended the salon he frequents. “Good looking, stylish, tight,” he’d rattled on. To which Kylo questioned if the man was talking about the building or the staff.

Bringing up the location, Kylo finds it’s across the city from his apartment. Still, it’s worth a try if the reviews are anything to go by – and Poe always has fantastic hair.

Kylo grabs a quick breakfast before hopping on his bike and setting out to find The Finalizer.

It’s a warm Saturday and it’s an enjoyable ride, even if it takes him a few hours. It’s nearly lunch by the time he reaches a strip of shops under a newly constructed condo complex. Large glass panes front the entirety of the businesses. He searches the signs until he spies sharp letters cut from blood-red metal. He shakes his head as a shiver runs up his spine, and he wheels his bike past a cafe to lock it to an abstractly designed bike rack.

There is a brief moment when he considers lunch, but he’s soon glad he waited.

Kylo grabs the brushed metal handle of the salon door, and enters with a deep breath. He is greeted with the clinking of metal scissors hanging inside the door.

The style of the signage continues inside, and the theatrics are intense. The lighting is subdued, save for the stylist’s single chair under a series of directed spot lights. Dark metal furniture is cushioned by black, leather cushions. A red, eye level strip is painted along the ebony walls. The minimalist room shouts order – and expense.

“Appointment?” an abrupt voice asks, breaking Kylo from his gawking.

“Sorry?” He rakes a hand through his long, uneven hair. His fingers catch on tangles caused by his long bike ride.

A tall, blond woman sits at a glass topped desk, tapping a stylus against the digital calendar on her tablet. “Do you have an appointment?”

Kylo looks around the room, glancing at the empty salon. “I seriously need an appointment?”

The woman’s mouth quirks up and he sees her eyeing his hair. “This isn’t a walk-up Quick Cuts. Hux is booked solid for the next three months.”

Irritation bubbles in his clenching stomach. He really should have thought of phoning, but it still grates. “If he’s in such high demand, why is it dead in here?”

This gains the large man a sharp laugh in response. Kylo continues to stand there, shifting his worn sneakers on the shiny floor.

The woman sighs and flicks a finger at a numberless, hexagonal wall clock. “It’s lunch.”

A standard lunch hour. Kylo can only wish. Movement behind the desk catches his eye.

“I’ll be back shortly, Phasma. Just grabbing a quick bite next door,” another voice drifts in from a curtained back room. A slender, red-headed man comes out, unrolling white sleeves from around his elbows. Occupied in his actions, the man nearly runs right into Kylo.

Green eyes flash. “And what’s this?” He drops his hands onto his thin hips, and cocks a well-groomed brow at Kylo.

Kylo feels a lump form in his throat.

“A walk-up,” the woman, Phasma, snorts. “For you, Hux.”

“Obviously.”

Firm fingers pick through Kylo’s windswept hair. He’s ridged as his ragged strands are examined. His expression pinches along with the pale fingers. He really doesn’t appreciate being ignored, but also feels as though his body will combust if he so much as breathes on the slightly shorter man.

“Apparently he thinks you have all sorts of idle time,” Phasma leans sideways onto the desk, smirking.

“I don’t,” Hux replies tersely, his gaze not leaving Kylo. “But this is a disaster.” He gestures up.

“Don’t you need to eat?” Phasma asks, far too amused in Kylo’s opinion.

Hux rolls his eyes, finally looking away from Kylo. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“And deprive you of my company? What sort of friend do you think I am?” She grins wickedly.

“The kind who thinks she works here.” Hux crosses his lean arms, narrowing his eyes.

“Pay me and it’s official,” the woman quips, pushing back from the desk.

The pair continues to banter until it’s too uncomfortable for Kylo to bear. “Uh…can I just book that appointment then?” He runs a hand through his hair again, breaking out of whatever odd paralysis Hux had cast over him.

The good natured bickering stops abruptly. Hux blinks, seeming to remember there’s a person attached to the unruly hair he’d just been analysing. “Don’t be silly. I’ll see you right now.” He turns on his heel and beckons for Kylo to follow. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Phasma, if I must.”

Phasma just snorts before offering Kylo and appraising look and leaving him to Hux.

“Okay?” Kylo turns. His attention trails after Hux’s lithe form as the stylist struts across the room, his tightly fitted pants framing an attractive figure. He shakes his head in bewilderment before obeying.

“At the sink, then,” Hux commands, rolling his sleeves up once again.

As Kylo takes a seat in the leather chair, he catches sight of an odd tattoo on the other man’s forearm. The pair of medical scissors and a dripping red line are inked onto the pale flesh, giving the illusion of a bloody incision across his otherwise unmarred limb. It’s bizarre to say the least. As Hux leans over to wash his hair, Kylo chances a glance up. There aren’t any other visible tattoos, but he does glimpse a flash of a flat, metal pendant hanging inside an unbuttoned collar – a scalpel? An involuntary shiver runs up his spine. This is the place Poe goes to, right? His co-worker hadn’t sent him here as some bad gag to meet this weirdo?

“Water too cold?” Hux asks, adjusting the tap as he rinses out Kylo’s dark hair.

“Uh, no it’s fine,” Kylo says, his heart racing. Crap. His shiver must have been noticeable.

Hux’s lips quirk up as he wraps a soft towel around the larger man’s dripping head. “It’s clear you haven’t had your hair looked after in a while. Perhaps you’re just not accustomed to a,” he pauses, “human touch?”

Right, Kylo decides. He’s probably going to have to commit some bodily harm on someone. Someone named Poe. Before he can contemplate murder, he finds himself pulled up by his arm and guided to the salon chair. A bright red cape is quickly draped around his shoulders, and the towel is whipped from his head.

Kylo expects to cringe as Hux grabs a comb and digs into his tangled mop, but even a wince proves to be unneeded. Hux carefully, and skillfully, works out all of the knots before sweeping the hair off of Kylo’s face and pinning it on top of his head. “Ah, there you are,” the stylist says with a smile. He gently tilts the larger man’s head this way and that with light touches of his fingers.

He can’t help but flush. There’s no mall ambience or noisy salon bustle to take any attention away from him, and the soft pads of Hux’s fingers feel electric on his cheeks.

“Did you have anything in mind?” the man asks, sounding detached, but not unkind.

Kylo swallows. “Something flattering, if that’s possible?” he offers with a shrug. “I don’t know. It grows like a weed. It’s always a mess within a few weeks.” He fights back a grimace.

“I’ll just work some of my magic then, shall I? That is why you decided to come, is it not?” Hux asks, though it’s not really a question. He already knows.

To his frustration, Kylo can’t be annoyed – it’s the truth. Unless Poe really had set him up. “You come highly recommended.”

“Oh? Dare I ask from whom?” Hux raises his brows, a pair a shining scissors having materialized in his hands.

“My friend, well, co-worker,” he says, talking becoming easier as the topic moves away from himself. “His name’s Poe. Dameron.” He watches curiously as Hux begins to snip at his hair, his movements having no pattern that Kylo can discern.

Hux snorts. “That man is such a ridiculous flirt. I almost can’t tell whether he’s truly satisfied when he leaves, or just stroking my ego. I suppose this confirms my beliefs.”

“Poe? A flirt?” he laughs, tension easing out of his muscles. “You have to know that’s just him though. He’s happily married.” It hadn’t been a trick. Poe really does come to see this quirky man.

“Oh, I know,” Hux replies with a touch of lofty conceit. “I did say ‘almost’.”

They fall into comfortable silence for a time, Kylo content to watch Hux methodically – he assumes – restore his hair to some semblance of order, bits and pieces falling around his broad shoulders. “So, uh…” He stops as a silky, red and white wrist band brushes against his face. “You have … unusual accessories,” Kylo finds himself saying. “And an interesting tattoo,” he adds before his brain can catch up with his mouth.

“Those are stories for more than one visit, I’m afraid,” Hux says with a casual smile, snipping away without a pause.

“I guess if I’m happy, I’ll have to come back,” he replies, looking skeptically at the various pins holding his hair up at odd angles.

“Do you really think I could afford my own business, in this neighborhood, if I didn’t have pleased customers?”

“Touché.” His smirk morphs to a grin, but it doesn’t disappear. “I guess you’ll have to get used to seeing a lot me. I did say my hair grows fast.” He gives Hux an innocent, wide eyed expression over his shoulder.

“Kylo, by the way.”

“Hmm?” Hux glances up from his work.

“Kylo Ren. My name.” He eyes the man in the mirror, reaching up to fiddle with his hair. “You had your hands in my hair before I could introduce myself at the door.”

This time Hux does stop, and he turns abruptly to clean his spotless scissors on a towel. Kylo swears the man’s ears are pink. With an obvious breath, he spins around, a faint blush lingering on his cheeks. “Stop tugging at it. I’m nearly done.” He sounds cranky as he bats Kylo’s hand away, but his blush doesn’t fade. “Now close your eyes so I can add the finishing touches. I can’t work if you’re messing about.”

Kylo snorts, but obeys. He wonders if Hux’s other clients receive similar instructions.  
Eventually, he can feel his hair falling lightly down around his face. After a few more minutes of quiet snipping, the salon falls silent.

“Alright, you can look now.” Hux says stiffly.

“Ah, the dramatic reveal.” Kylo opens his eyes, feeling unexpectedly excited. He turns his head back and forth to get a good look at the cut. His mouth falls open. Hux made him look handsome – he didn’t even think that was possible. “I kinda want to leave my own review now,” he says, still gaping at his reflection.

“Oh?” Hux says, with an air of nonchalance, but his eyes are smiling. He removes the cape from the large man’s shoulders and shakes off the remaining hair. “And what might you say?” His eyes sharp eyes give away his feigned disinterest.

Kylo smiles at him in the mirror. “I can’t decide if I want to give you one star or five.”

Hux snorts. “Care to explain why you’d even consider such an abysmal offering? I have never had a dissatisfied customer.” He crosses his arms, looking at the back of his client’s head before meeting the other man’s stare.

“Well, if I give you a five star rating, you’re only going to get busier – but if I leave an unhappy review, more time for me!”

“That is,” Hux pauses, fishing for the right word, “astonishingly idiotic. As if one poor review will tarnish my record.” He rubs a brow before swatting Kylo’s head and moving to grab his broom. “Now out before I sweep you up with the stray animal on the floor.”

Kylo pretends not to notice when Hux deftly slips a lock of dark hair into a tight, back pocket.

Perhaps he could tease the man about it the next time he needs a cut. Kylo grins and hops out of the chair. “Thanks, Hux.” He leaves a generous tip with his payment at the desk and pushes out the door, scissor-chimes jingling.

“If I find less than a glowing review, I’ll shave you bald next time!” the stylist calls after him.

The glass door swings shut behind him, and Kylo is suddenly glad for his fast growing mop of hair.

**Author's Note:**

> So I decided to leave Hux's story untold. He wants Kylo to come back. XD
> 
> For those interested: He used to be a surgeon at his father's hospital. But they had a falling out. He started cutting hair just to spite his father, with the intention of going to a different hospital eventually, but discovered he loved this a lot more. His necklace is a blunted scalpel blade. His bracelet is the barber pole colours. Barbers used to be called barber-surgeons and did both. The red and white (and I'm realizing I added the alternate blue into the image as well) represents blood and bandages. His surgeon-esque scissor tattoo mixes the two professions. Cause he's rebellious and a nerd. And still proud of both jobs.


End file.
